


Claudeleth Week 2020

by Vixenofthemist



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: ClaudelethWeek2020, F/M, Raised by Sitri AU, byleth is a student, rated m just in case one of the later prompts turns saucy but we'll see alsdjf, sitri isn't in it as much as I wanted but her presence is felt, starts near the beginning of canon and moves from there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:07:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25382806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixenofthemist/pseuds/Vixenofthemist
Summary: A series of oneshots for Claudeleth Week 2020, set in an AU were Byleth was not a mercenary raised by Jeralt, but a citizen of Garrag Mach raised by her Momma, Sitri, and the differences it makes in herself and her relationship with Claude von Riegan through out the story.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54
Collections: Claudeleth Week 2020





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1: Stars/Comfort
> 
> After fighting the bandits in the Red Canyon, the Golden Deer are returning back to the monastery, but Byleth is having trouble sleeping so Sothis urges her to get some fresh air.

Byleth had been aware that joining the officers academy would introduce her to new situations that she never had to deal with before, and that it would be challenging having to adapt, but she had never imagined it would be QUITE this uncomfortable just trying to sleep.

With a roll, she turned onto her other side, trying to find even an inch of comfort in the bedroll, but the thin cloth laid underneath did not do much in stopping sharp stones from jabbing into her sides. She was trying her best to ignore it and get some rest, but that method hadn’t done much good the past three nights, and it still wasn’t helping now either.

What was even worse was every so often when she closed her eyes, the memory of that bandit cutting down Marianne flashed like an awful picture book at rapid speed, causing her heart to race and eyes to burst open. Unfamiliar magic pulsed a tingling numbness through her fingertips as she sat up and glanced around the tent, reassuring herself as she accounted for most of her female classmates huddled in their own bedrolls. Even Marianne.

From her position beside the tent flap, Byleth breathed a quiet, but shaky, breath. Massaging her hand that had cut down the bandit the second time before he had time to reach Marianne. It had been not only her first kill with a sword, but also her first time killing another human... Though that did not bother her as much as how, in the dim light of the crescent moon, Byleth felt like she could still see the blood splattered across her body as Marianne collapsed…

But she blinked, and the blood was gone.

“You seem unsettled by the outcome; would you have preferred if I did not grant you permission to my power and let your classmate die instead?” The slightly patronizing tone of Sothis, the little girl inside her head, floated in, interrupting Byleth’s own thoughts.

Byleth shook her head, a quiet no passing under her breath. Sothis scoffed, her unamused expression clear in Byleth’s thoughts even though she could not see her.

“If that is true than best act like it! You are in this class to be a knight, are you not? It is not in a good knights form to be so rattled by a death of an enemy, and a death you gave to save an ally no less! You should be able to rest well, instead of be so distraught that it is affecting _my_ attempts to.”

“ _You’re right… sorry.”_ Byleth answered with her thoughts this time, hoping Sothis could hear.

Judging by the sigh, she could.

“Ugh, your restlessness is starting to even affect me.” The echoing voice of Sothis prodded. “perhaps some fresh air will help. At the very least it could make in here less stuffy so that I can be at peace.”

Finding that idea appealing, to get out of this stuffy tent and even more suffocating bedroll, Byleth silently got up and slipped on her boots. Leonie, the one sleeping right next to the tents opening, stirred slightly in her sleep as Byleth stepped carefully, but she did not awake, and Byleth left the tent with a blanket around her shoulders into the night.

The Golden Deer had three tents pitched around a campfire in the center of a small clearing, one for the girls, one for the boys, and one for their Professor. Judging by the moon, it was a little past midnight, and only two figures were sitting at the dwindling fire.

Claude and Hilda were on watch duty till three, having taken it from Leonie and Lorenz at midnight, but judging by Hilda’s slumped form, it was mostly Claude on duty.

Her house leader was still dressed in his uniform, collar and hair slightly messed from that days travels, but otherwise he looked alert as he idly twirled an arrow in his fingers, staring at the dancing flames.

He was certainly more alert than Hilda, who had fallen asleep before being dragged to watch by Leonie, and was still in her nightgown with her long pink hair braided into pigtails. It looked like she was asleep again, head nodding uncomfortably in her palms, and she didn’t stir as Byleth walked up behind her.

Claude noticed however, and gave her a curious eyebrow raise over the campfire.

“Couldn’t sleep?” When Byleth nodded, he shrugged, leaning back on the stump he was sitting on, bow leaning next to him. “Can’t blame you, I don’t know if I’d be able to either with how loud Raphael snores-”

As if on queue, there came a muffled, but still loud, snore that could easily be mistaken for a wheezing wyvern from the boys tent behind Claude, followed by an exhale that was just as loud and throaty.

“- if not for how tired I am by the time my head hits the pillow. Geez, I’ve heard bears that are quieter.” Claude wrinkled his nose, throwing a look of contempt over his shoulder, and Byleth gave him a sympathetic nod, sitting down next to Hilda. Careful to not disturb her.

“I admire your ability to sleep despite… everything.” Byleth said, with a slight somberness to her usual professional tone. “I wish I could develop such a skill.”

Claude chuckled, shaking his head.

“It’s not exactly a skill. Unless you consider staying up till you can’t keep your eyes open any longer a skill, in which case, thank you. It’s something I pride myself in.”

“Oh, I see. I should try that method sometime.” Byleth thanked him, glancing slightly at Hilda as she teetered dangerously forward. “Speaking of sleeping,” She switched subjects, looking back at Claude. “I can take over her shift if that’d be useful. I doubt I will be nodding off anytime soon.”

“Anything would be more helpful than sleeping bedhead over there.” Claude deadpanned, and then raised his voice slightly. “Hilda! Wake up!”

With a start, Hilda fluttered “awake”, making a show of rubbing her eyes and yawning.

“W-what? Sorry, I must have fallen asleep, I’m just so EXHAUSTED I couldn’t help myself from taking a little bit of a shut eye. It really is a bad idea to put me on night duty when I just naturally need more beauty sleep than others.”

Claude shook his head.

“The theatrics aren’t needed Hilda, Byleth already offered to take over for you.”

“Oh.” Hilda blinked, just noticing Byleth sitting beside her. Than she brightened, standing up with a big stretch of her arms.

“Well, I will certainly not miss such a kind offer as that- Thank you so much for the rescue Byleth, you are a true knight for rescuing this sleeping beauty~”

“What does that make me?” Claude asked, curious, idly running a thumb along the arrows quill feathers. Hilda didn’t miss a beat to be dramatic as she picked up her iron axe.

“The cruel dragon keeping me here.”

“Ouch. Aw well, they do say you always have to look out for the handsome ones.” Claude sighed with a wink, leaning back on his hands.

“Yes, how unfortunate for you. Well, I am afraid this fair maiden has a prince in her bedroll, so I’ll be going to bed. Good night!” And Hilda walked off, as Byleth frowned.

“That… sounded a little odd.”

“It did, but it’s like 1 am, we’ll judge her for it in the morning.”

“Alright...” Byleth agreed, a little confused by that whole exchange. It was a feeling she had been getting often, and as it got quiet between them with Hilda’s departure, she felt it even more.

She wasn’t used to being around people this often, honestly. Growing up it had mostly been just her and her mother, Sitri, in their house in Garrag Mach, and occasionally she’d go with her to the monastery for a few hours before wondering back to roam Garrag Mach city alone. There had been kids her age, but she had never… gotten along with them.

She shifted slightly on her log, staring into the fire as an owl hoo’d in the distance, rustling leaves deep in the forest. She could feel Claude’s eyes occasionally falling on her, but she never rose to meet them, entranced by the occasional spark of sap in the flames.

Truth be told, this was the longest time she had ever been away from her mother, and it was only adding to the turmoil preventing her from resting. Not knowing how her mother was doing right now, knowing something could of happened and she would have no idea, caused Byleth a great deal of stress that at least managed to take her mind momentarily off the killing.

“Mind if I ask you something?” Claude broached the silence with a casual question.

It was her turn to regard him across the fire, trying to discern a hint of what he might be looking for, but the flickering light interfered too much to gleam anything.

“I suppose.”

“What made you decide to join the Officers Academy? Your mom works for the monastery, right? Wouldn’t it have been easier to follow her footsteps and praise the goddess?”

Byleth blinked away the image of a well-kept grave that first came to her mind, and answered thoughtfully, careful to not share too much.

“It… might have been.” Byleth agreed slowly. “But I’ve never connected well with that side of everything. I see more worth in action, and the knights have always been the ones to take it.” Her hands laced together slightly on her lap, and her gaze dropped from his green to the orange embers again. “It seemed like the more fitting route.”

“The pray all day stuff doesn’t appeal to you, huh? Can’t say I blame you. I don’t really see the appeal of it either.”

Byleth shrugged slightly, face blank.

“Something like that.”

Claude picked up a long stick and prodded at the fire, stirring larger flames to flicker back up again.

“You sure are an odd case, ya know that Fawnleth?” Claude broke the silence with a tease, pulling out the nickname he had started calling her a few days ago, after she had stumbled awkwardly through helping set up campsite and it became clear to him she had never set foot outside of the city before. Like a fawn trying to figure out it’s legs. “First you get to choose what house you’re in, than you’re surprisingly competent on the battlefield for someone who has never seen it before. You’re just a big locked box of secrets.”

“I answered your question.” Byleth pointed out, confused to what secrets he was referring to, but Claude only shrugged, telling nothing.

“You did.” He said, and Byleth pursed her lips. The grin he was giving her and the relaxed posture didn’t match with what she was hearing in his words, and she half expected Sothis to chime in and warn her to be on guard, but Sothis remained unusually quiet.

“… What about you?” Byleth asked, bringing the question back around to him. “Why did you join the officer’s academy?”

“Didn’t really have a choice. The old man told me I had to, so I did.” It was Claude’s turn to look into the fire to avoid eye contact. 

“Why did you have to?”

He nudged a log with the make shift poker, and it crumbled into embers.

“Ya know, the usual reasons nobles do stuff.”

“No, I don’t know.” Byleth admitted, and she was telling the truth. Sitri had never exactly taught her the ins and outs of noble life, and neither had anyone else.

Claude did not answer right away, continuing to play with the fire, before he looked up, his smile a little more tight around the edges.

“You’ll figure it out. There’s enough nobles around I’m sure one of em will spill it before the years over.”

The conversation ended there. Byleth had no other question to ask, and Claude didn’t seem to feel like talking anymore, so they didn’t for the rest of their shift beyond occasional small talk about what a noise could be; Byleth’s mind cycling through what had been plaguing her the last few days with a new addition of the nights talk, and Claude… was lost in thought for whatever weighted on his mind so often.

Sothis, had fallen asleep almost the moment Byleth saw stars.


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: Free/Growth (I'm using the last days free prompt because I had an idea for it in the school phase lol)
> 
> Summary: Claude finds Byleth in the green house, crouching over a dying plant.

The drooping and brown edged leaf was lifted delicately with a frown, indigo eyes inspecting the rest of the sprout for other signs of what could be the reason for its sudden shift in health, and Byleth found spots along the stem and on the oldest leaf, but she could not identify what had caused it.

Sitting back on her heels, Byleth removed her hand from the plant and placed both on her knees, staring down at the sprout as she worked her lip slightly, thinking over what her mother had taught her about this plant.

It was a Leicester Bellabloom, a distinct yellow variant able to withstand most climates, but Byleth had been having trouble getting them to bloom in the Monastery’s green house. It was incredibly puzzling, since Sitri had grown them just fine back home, and their backyard was not as ideal as the carefully cultivated greenhouse…

The sun continued to set around her as she poured over a book Ashe had recommended to her, trying to find any sort of clue that might help save this plant.

But alas, with a frustrated sigh Byleth finally closed the book, and lifted a wilting bud in somber defeat.

“But I worked so hard on you…” She breathed, shoulders falling.

“Worked so hard on what? This little thing?”

Claude sat himself beside her, catching her by surprise and causing a small “oh” out of Byleth from his sudden appearance.

“Claude, I did not know you were here.” She told him, and he grinned at her mischievously.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, you’re usually so aware of your surroundings it’s a little scary.”

Byleth’s frown deepened.

“Scary?”

“Consider it a compliment. Anyway, is this little thing what’s caused you to spend a whole Friday afternoon in here?” He asked, leaning closer and getting a better look at the wilting sprout.

“Yes.” Byleth sighed, moving over so he could get a better look, though she didn’t know how much knowledge he had on plants. “I must have cultivated it wrong when I first planted it.”

“Tsk tsk, I expected more from you Fawnleth. Able to wield the Sword of the Creator but not able to keep a plant alive?” Claude chastised with a sigh, bringing up as he often did recently her ability to wield the odd sword from the crypt, and as usual Byleth stared at him unimpressed, unable to tell if this was another of his joking jabs or an actual critique. With Claude, the two were indistinguishable.

“A sword is a lot easier to wield, and relies only on your own ability, whereas gardening has a lot of outside elements that make it difficult. I’d like to see you keep a Faerghus plant alive in the summer.” Byleth replied, a little annoyed, both from the hours she spent on this plant and his insistence to always bring up the sword. It had added a tenseness to their conversations where before it had been mostly lighthearted and distant, and Byleth did not like it.

She did not ask to be able to wield the sword with her crest or to have it given to her, and Claude’s sudden prickliness only added to the confused whirlwind of it all.

“Wait- is this a Bellabloom?” Claude asked, his voice changing to a more interested tone as he leaned even closer. Byleth nodded.

“It’s supposed to be, but at this rate it won’t grow. It’d be best to replant and try again.”

“Where did you get this?” Claude asked, only half listening. “I’ve been trying to find one for ages but they’re impossible to track down!”

“My mother grows them.” Byleth answered, giving him a critical side eye as she set the book down beside her. “What do you need them for? I didn’t think you were a man for flowers.”

Claude feigned offense, hand on his chest and slightly recoiling back.

“How rude! I’ll have you know I know quite a lot about flowers! Mostly the variety that can aid in creating some questionably useful tinctures, but still, I would say that’s more than your average handsome guy.”

Byleth raised her brows as she stood up, regarding him sharply as he followed suite.

“I’m sure. And does that above average knowledge include a possible way to salvage this?”

“Well, I have only read books about them, but…” He trailed off, one hand on his chin and the other on his hip as his mind turned. Byleth waited expectantly, seeing a scheming glint to his eye, and soon he continued with a slanted grin. “Luckily this plant does fall under my expertise, and I think I do know a way to help you, but how about we make it fun and strike a deal? I’ll help you grow them, and in exchange you let me have some of them when they’ve bloomed.”

“You… aren’t asking me to help you poison people? Right?” Byleth asked, folding her arms in a suspicious stance. She didn’t have anything wrong with poison, but the thought of an offspring of one of her father’s gifts being used to poison classmates didn’t sit right. Her Momma would definitely would not approve.

“Not a poison, no. An antidote actually! There’s plenty of documented poisons to make with the Leicester branch of Bellabloom’s, but hardly any antidotes, and well; I see something that I can mess with and I can’t help but try and figure it out myself.”

Byleth thought for a few moments, studying him closely, before relaxing her arms to her side again.

“I suppose I don’t see why not. If, you really are trying to make an antidote.”

Claude placed a hand over his heart.

“I promise- and look-“ he lifted his other hand into the open air, wiggling it slightly to show the fingers were apart. “no crossed fingers.”

“Very well, I believe you... now, what do I need to do?”

Claude spent the next hour helping Byleth create a better environment for the flowers to flourish, informing her about what likely went wrong in her first attempt based off of a book he had read- which he claimed hadn’t come from the library so there was no way she could have found the answer there.

He also helped her plant them, and while they were once again huddled nearby, packing bundle of seeds into tiny holes in the ground in silence, Byleth’s thoughts wondered, and an odd memory burst to light out of the usual dim cloud of her past.

"When I was little,” Byleth spoke suddenly, catching Claude’s attention to her. “I didn’t get along with other kids. I don’t know why, but whenever I tried it ended before it could begin. I asked Momma, and she told me that it was because friendships are like plants.” Byleth carefully brought a palm of dirt over a hole, unsure why she was telling him this, but not sure why she should stop either. “You both have to put some care and effort in for it to grow into something.”

Claude was silent as he stared at her, his thoughts hidden behind his eyes again as she continued planting.

"That’s an interesting way of looking at it…” He finally responded, his words slightly guarded with an edge she often heard ever since getting the Sword of the Creator. “But a lot of poisons start out as seeds to, how can you tell what type of friendship you planted?"

Byleth had never thought of that, and she thought it over carefully as she dragged dirt over the last hole and packed it down tightly.

"I think that would depend entirely on the person you garden with." She supposed, dusting the dirt off her hands as she met his eyes, catching the setting sun reflected in them as they just looked at each other.

“Well than,” Claude stood up, dusting the dirt off his pants and coat, an interesting look to his smile. “I guess we’ll see what we grow together, huh?”

His tone was the unique Claude variety, mixing joking with something more serious hidden beneath it, making it hard to decipher the layers packed beneath the seemingly simple words. Byleth stood up to meet him, tilting her head to the side as she regarded him.

“I suppose we will.”


	3. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While out training, Claude can’t help but watch Byleth and wonder why she never uses the Sword of the Creator.

Storm clouds still lingered above Garrag Mach, though the sprinkling had stopped hours ago the threat of it continuing and hindering the Golden Deer’s field training was still there, causing some disruption to their work.

Instead of the intensive group training they usually did in class specific schedules like this, they had assigned each student their own training to complete, so that each student would get as much training in before the weather chased them inside.

Claude had been tasked with working on his axe ability, hitting a training post in practiced movements to get familiar with an axe in his hand, and the muscle memory was finally starting to come back from the lessons he had gotten in his youth.

Claude had finished his set goal third, Lysithea and Leonie finishing in front of him. They now sat on a hill resting while the others continued on, Lysithea’s nose buried in a book on Claude’s left as far away as she could sit, slightly annoyed she had been told to stop when she felt she should have worked more. Leonie was sitting next to her, wrapping her palm from blisters, but she seemed satisfied with how training had gone that day and was chatting plans she had to reuse a broken bow to Lysithea’s hair.

Taking a drink from a water-skin, Claude observed the rest of the Golden Deer below.

Lorenz had stopped his own training to insist on helping Marianne refine her lance form, and the Professor was currently with them attempting to get Lorenz to focus back on his own work; Ignatz was moving steadily along at a comfortable pace, his aim getting better every time he shot, and Raphael was currently out of sight, running a few laps to warm up before his brawling training. Hilda was currently just standing there, studying her nails with a sour expression that told Claude she had done something to one of them.

The sound of a sharp strike and wood splintering brought Claude’s attention to the closest training post as it toppled to the ground, the whip like fragments of the Sword of the Creator retracting back to form the jagged blade at a pull of Byleth’s wrist, her breathing heavy as she took in the log on the floor, before looking to the stack of her previous posts now piled together to the side.

Claude didn’t focus on her for long however, honing in on the blade in her hand like a hawk to a rabbit.

The Sword of the Creator really was as powerful as Claude had heard, able to cut through tree trunks like an arrow through an apple at the lightest flick of the wrist, and he had never seen a blade tear through wyvern scales with as much ease. At least, an ease when Byleth’s heart was in it.

That was the thing that had been bothering Claude, tilting to the side slightly as he continued watching Byleth stick the sword into the ground and kick the post to join the others, he did not understand her apprehension.

She had perhaps one of the strongest weapons ever to exist in her grasp, yet she never used it! In battle she mostly stuck to the magic she was used to, and occasionally a steel sword, but he could count all the times she had actually used the sword on one hand: The fight against Miklan, and once again during a sudden ambush from flying beasts after she had used up all her spells.

That was it.

Outside of training, she never utilized its power, despite all the potential she held every time she wielded it. In just the few seconds it took for her to stack the post, hundreds of uses flew through his head of what he could do if he had his hands on it, for even just one day. He would be able to achieve so much and she just… (his nails subconsciously dug into his left palm) had no idea how much she was wasting it.

Byleth came into view again as she grasped the swords handle, and as if sensing him watching, she met his gaze and reflexively he put on a smile to disarm her from his thoughts, but Byleth didn’t seem to take his ploy, eyes narrowing slightly as she regarded him.

Byleth’s indigo eyes were at times, like scales of judgement, weighing whoever she was looking at as if she was deciding their fate. She had been weighing him a lot lately, ever since they had started their little gardening pact together he had noticed her taking a closer look at him any chance she got, and he had a guess as to why, but knowing did not stop his hairs from standing on end at the thought of someone finding out what he was hiding.

It bothered him almost as much as her never using that damn sword.

At that moment the professor drew her judgement away as he called out.

“That’s enough Byleth. You’ve been working hard no need to overdo it, go take a break.” The professor, finally free from Lorenz, instructed. But she hesitated.

“I can keep going.” She insisted, pulling her sword out of the dirt, but their professor shook his head firmly, arms crossed.

“No, you’ve already gone beyond what I instructed you to do. Go take a seat next to the others, Claude looks particularly bored, perhaps he can enjoy your company for the time till we head inside.”

Reluctantly, Byleth followed his orders, and Claude waved as if their small eye exchange had never happened.

“Lysithea didn’t have any luck getting extra training in either,” Claude told her as she sat on the grass, looking up at the sky to keep from looking at the sword she laid between them. “Honestly I don’t know what’s up with the professor today, usually they’re on our ass about getting enough training in but today they’re going easy.”

“All the professor’s have been acting odd lately, ever since the month began.” Byleth sighed, watching their professor. “The whole monastery even. I assume you’ve noticed?”

“Me? Noticing something out of the ordinary?” Claude asked, feigning cluelessness as he leaned back on his palms against the damp grass. “Nope, doesn’t sound like me. You must be mistaking me for someone more nosy. Hubert perhaps?”

Byleth shrugged.

“Perhaps. I would not put it past Hubert to sneak around at night… but I doubt he has much interest of what’s in the library.” Byleth stated, turning to face him as he looked at her, uneasy of where she was going. “I hope you are planning to return those books, especially the tome about the lost crests, Tomas has always kept a careful eye on that one.”

Claude blinked at her, before laughing, shaking his head in amusement.

“Man, you are getting better at jokes Fawnleth! That really caught me off guard, nice work! Next time we’ll have to get you some knock knock jokes.” He deflected, smiling broadly in mock good humor.

“Thank you, but this isn’t a joke.” She said seriously, voice lowering even more than it had been before. “You don’t have to hide it, I saw you.”

The smile fell from Claude’s face.

“What are you talking about?! I didn’t…” He spluttered slightly, trying to regain composure but Byleth had completely caught him off guard by this. He tried to remember seeing Byleth, or _anyone_ that night, but he swore there had been no one around.

“See anyone?” She offered, shrugging, idly picking at a dandelion near her ankle. “You’re not the only one who has ever snuck around the monastery at night, and I might have been raised by someone who knows more than a few unseen ways around.”

Claude gaped at her, both from shock that she managed to do such a thing without him noticing, and also from trying to picture the kind priestess that was her mother ever being the type to sneak around in hidden passages.

“Wait…” Claude began, piecing his thoughts back together. “Why where you there? You’ve never really struck me as the type to break the rules just because you feel like it, so you must have had a reason.”

“That’s… correct, I suppose. I know a few of the library assistants, and when one realized someone might be taking books they asked me for help in catching whoever did it.”

She frowned, a thought seemingly crossing her mind as a dip formed between her brows. “It is odd that Tomas has not seemed to notice yet, but I suppose that is a good thing. One less person potentially down your neck trying to find who did it.”

“Trying to find? You haven’t told them I was the one who took the books?” Claude asked, eyes narrowing slightly in distrust.

She nodded.

“I haven’t.”

“Why?” He asked in disbelief, and suspicion.

“I trust you.” She said simply, though it was the second sentence she had spoken that day that took Claude completely off guard. “You do not seem like the type to just steal without reason, so as long as you take them back in a short amount of time I don’t really see a reason to.”

“I’ll refrain on questioning the wiseness of that choice for the sake of keeping my research.”

Claude said in an easy going voice, but he was unable to keep looking at her, and his eyes fell to the sword.

“A smart decision. You never know what could make me reconsider telling on you. Perhaps I can make you do something for me in return? I am supposed to clean the stables with Ingrid this month, that could get you security for at least the next four weeks.” Her tone did not change from it’s usual monotone, and it made a cold chill grip at Claude’s stomach and his focus stay on the sword as he weighted those options in his mind.

He would have expected this sort of blackmail from Hilda, and maybe Edelgard and Hubert, but not from Byleth. It was a bitter reminder he supposed, of how more on guard he needed to be around her. Around everyone.

The fact that she had continuously slipped past his expectations today was alarming, and he would prefer if it didn’t happen again. It couldn’t, happen again. Byleth was too observant, she could discover it all and all it would take was one word to Rhea and he’d be exposed and possibly thrown out. Or worse-

“That was a joke.”

Claude snapped attention to Byleth, blinking to unblur her in his vision after focusing on one thing for so long. She was frowning, somehow deeper than before.

“What?” He asked, frowning himself.

“What I said before, about you doing something to keep my silence. It was a joke.”

“Oh. _Oh.”_ Claude’s voice dropped to a mixture of realization and concern, shaking his head. “Wow, I was kidding before about working on jokes but now I’m seriously considering it.”

He wasn’t convinced she was telling to truth and was just deflecting to get him off her trail, but if that’s what she wants him to believe than sure, he’ll play along

Byleth did not seem to like that response, and a huff of air blew out of her nose as she folded her arms crossly.

“I don’t get it. You say jokes like that all the time and they’re funny, what’s the difference when I say them?” Annoyance trickled into her voice like he had never heard it before, and he shrugged.

“I’m amazing at jokes?”

Byleth’s frown slanted as she looked at him unimpressed.

“And I’m not? I thought you said I was good at them?”

Suddenly, he was not so sure she was faking.

“Er, well, I was… joking about that. Because I thought you were telling a bad joke.”

Byleth regarded him with slanted eyes, and Claude felt a bead of sweat fall down his neck even though it was a fairly cool day.

“I don’t get jokes.” Byleth finally said, pointedly looking straight ahead.

Claude chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

“It uh, comes with practice. _Anyway-”_ Claude hurried along, wanting to move past that exchange as quickly as possible. “To answer your original question; Yeah, I have noticed how stressed out everyone is. Seteth especially looks more ragged every day, I saw him talking to the professor’s yesterday and he looked like he was about to start yelling at any moment.”

Byleth’s frown finally left her face as it dipped into concern.

“I heard him snap at some students the other day. He apologized quickly, but whatever it is is really affecting him.”

“Hm.” Claude agreed, mind turning. “Have you seen Flayn lately?”

“I haven’t. But I’ve been spending a lot of my time in the training hall and Flayn doesn’t frequent there very often, so I assumed we just haven’t crossed path’s.”

“I haven’t seen her either… I don’t want to speculate too much, but I don’t think it’s just a coincidence that these are lining up together.”

“Ah, I see what you mean.” Byleth said. “If Flayn was even just under the weather Seteth would be incredibly worried.”

“Exactly! The guy’s the most protective older brother I’ve ever met, and I’ve met Holst. If I were a betting type of guy, I’d probably bet this odd mood has something to do with Flayn.”

“Perhaps… we should ask and see who has seen Flayn lately, before we get caught up in this theory.” Byleth offered, and Claude nodded.

“Sounds like a plan. You know faculty better, so I’ll ask the students. But remember, keep it natural. We don’t want to raise suspicion while we’re trying to scope things out.”

Byleth nodded in agreement, and down below, their Professor stood with his back to where Claude and Byleth sat, his head falling as he pinched his nose.

“It’s always those two.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything’s gonna be a day late now but let’s just pretend it’s not alcjskdj


	4. Day 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth gets asked to be the Golden Deer’s representative for the White Heron Cup, but her mother’s fluctuating health worries her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SITRIIIIIIII!! She finally appears!!

It was a bustling Friday, the class houses finally back from the journey to Gronder field, and their return brought life back into the dreary winter days at the monastery. The Golden Deer, fresh off their victory in the battle of Eagle and Lion, were especially in good spirits.

Lorenz’s pompous laugh from the tea garden could be heard all the way in the training hall, causing Byleth to slow in her movement as she tried to figure out what that was.

Seeing an opening, Claude swung his axe – but Byleth’s reflexes were slightly faster and she ducked out of the way, hitting the dirt with the agility of a cat and skirting out of his reach closer to the edge of the combat circle, holding the blade in a defensive two handed stance. They began circling around, waiting for the other to strike first.

“Yikes, what was that?” Sylvain asked, face falling to a grimace and looking skyward from his own combat circle. “Sounded like a Pegasus having a fit.”

“Lorenz.” Byleth and Claude replied together, not taking their eyes off each other as they studied the others movements, trying to figure out who was going to make the next move.

“Ah, that explains it- OW!” Sylvain yelled, recoiling back a bit like he’d been shocked and his lance clattered to the floor. He whirled to face Dorothea, his opponent, with an accusatory pout. “You said you wouldn’t use magic!” He cradled his hand, and she put hers on her hips, unamused.

“Than focus on our match!” Dorothea huffed back. “If I got money every time you get distracted, I’d have enough to start my own opera troupe!”

“Hey- most of the time it’s because you’re so beautiful it catches me off guard!” Sylvain tried to deflect, but Dorothea wasn’t having it.

“That’s no excuse.” She pointed to Byleth, still focused on her own fight. “Bylie is incredibly beautiful and Claude’s fighting her just fine!”

At those words, Byleth’s eyes closed as she inhaled deeply, eyebrow twitching slightly, and Claude would have taken advantage of it, if the inhale hadn’t drawn his eyes away from her stance and towards her chest, and he had to blink a few times himself to reorient back into battle.

“I thought this was supposed to be a date since both of our meal schedules were booked, but if this is how you act on dates than I am rethinking ever accepting your invitation to dinner.” Dorothea continued.

“Aww come one, I’m much better at dinner I promise. It’s easier to not get distracted when all there is to do is focus all my attention to you, so I can enjoy the way the light hits your face without having to worry about watching my back!”

It was a cloudy day, but the sun peeked through occasionally, and it did so just as Byleth passed beneath it, and the way it hit her hair was more than a little distracting. Direct sun brought out the more greenish hue in her dark blue waves, and it was as if there was an ombré halo of lightest green to the darkest blue framing her face in a glow, drawing attention to the determined notch in her brow and the weighting judgement of her fierce eyes.

Needing to do _anything_ else to try and get his mind back on track, Claude switched directions, hoping to catch Byleth off guard, but she followed suite quickly and the pace of their circling kept.

“I suppose I’ll see that for myself, _if_ we ever go on a date.” 

Their bickering kept up, even as they continued sparring, and with each one it took out another hefty chunk of Claude’s patience.

Especially since Sylvain kept bringing up Dorothea’s beauty was distracting to which Dorothea always replied:

“Again, Claude is managing just fine!”

Which was frustrating, because Claude, was not doing fine.

With every new argument they brought up against each other, the more distracted by Byleth Claude found himself.

There was usually a rhythm to the way they sparred, like a coordinated dance, but it felt off beat now, and Claude felt self conscious of every move made.

“You two,” Claude said finally, loud enough that it interrupted the bickering, slumping up out of the battle stance, and Byleth followed suite. “are the most distracting thing I have ever had to deal with, and I’ve had stuff thrown at me.” He turned, giving them both a glare, and he could feel Byleth’s own as well scorching past him towards them.

They both at least, had the decency to look sheepish.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to get quite so… loud.” Dorothea apologized.

“Yeah…” Sylvain agreed, fake coughing into his fist. “We were just uh, ya know, flirting.”

“Flirting?” Dorothea asked, raising an eyebrow, and Byleth and Claude’s eyes met, conveying a shared “ _here we go again._ ”.

“That’s kind of how we flirt, you can’t deny.”

Her eyebrow raised higher, and her hand joined her hip.

“I’m considering it.”

“O-kay. And with that I’m leaving.” Claude bailed with a shake of his head, giving Byleth an apologetic shrug.

“We’ll have to pick it up later.” She called after him, the wind coming in from the open door pushing her hair back so all there was for him to focus on when he looked back was her confident face. “I would have won that.”

“Sure you would have, whatever helps you sleep at night!” Claude hollered back, closing the door behind him to Byleth’s eye roll.

He walked more from memory than with a destination in mind, letting his feet carry him to the classroom courtyard as he fumbled with whatever just happened.

As he passed the the last room classroom, a male voice called out;

“Ah, Claude, have you seen Byleth?”

Turning, Claude saw the Professor striding out to meet with Claude from the Golden Deer classroom, a broad smile on his face.

“Yeah, she was just in the training hall.”

“Excellent! Excellent, good.” He said, rubbing his hands together with some excitement in his eyes, that told Claude he had just figured something out. “By the way- you weren’t attached to being the representative in the White Heron Cup, were you?”

“Nope.” Claude said immediately, shaking his head. “None. Hilda or Lorenz would be much more suited for that probably.” Claude said, and the professor nodded.

“Yes, they both told me as much, but… skills wise, neither particularly fit the skill sets that would benefit from being a dancer.” The professor mused, hand massaging his chin. “And because of that… I think I am going to ask Byleth to represent in the White Heron cup.”

Claude blinked, his distracted mind abruptly completely focused.

“Byleth?!” He asked incredulously, and the professor nodded.

“Yes, dancers tend to lean to magic and swordsmanship, and Byleth is skilled in both as well as being more confident than Marianne, our other magic sword user, so would most likely feel more comfortable taking on that position. But you do know your classmates better than I, so what do you think of it as house leader?”

“Ah, well,” Claude stalled, trying to figure out what he thought of it. “I hadn’t thought about Byleth participating, but I don’t see why she shouldn’t?”

That was all the Professor needed, and he clapped Claude appreciatively on the shoulder as he moved past.

“That’s what I was thinking! Thanks for the input, I’ll go and see what she thinks about it right now. Enjoy the rest of your Friday Claude!” He cheered as he walked off.

Claude truly hadn’t thought of Byleth being their representative, and now he wasn’t sure if he would be able to stop.

\---

The only person more enthusiastic about Byleth competing in the white Heron Cup than their Professor, was Byleth’s mother.

Claude had never seen Sitri as often as he did in the weeks leading up to the cup, and he thought she visited often before! But now she came almost every day to check in and see how they were doing.

Not that anyone was complaining; Sitri had a talent for home-cooking, and always brought food that rivaled the monastery’s best and in some cases, (like her roast, which was Claude’s favorite) was far better.

Today she had brought lots of sandwiches, made on freshly baked rolls, which the Professor had been first in line for.

“I thought you said we shouldn’t be skipping lunch.” Hilda reminded him slyly, and their Professor shrugged, trying to look composed which was a little difficult with a plate full of food.

“I did, but now I’ve realized the tactical advantage this gives us! We can train while the others are eating lunch, giving us at least a solid half hour ahead of them!” He clenched his fist, but his plate wobbled and he quickly grabbed it with both hands again. “Really, this is a tactic we should have used for the Battle of Eagle and Lion.”

“Well, I’m glad I can help!” Sitri said with a smile, setting down a bag of apples. “I would have done this sooner, but I didn’t exactly have the free time I do now.” She laughed slightly, which turned into a progressive cough that shook her small frame.

“I’m sorry, that’s been happening whenever I talk too much.” She apologized, attempting to wave away the concern that was held on everyone’s faces. “That’s why they put me off duty, can’t have a priestess coughing while leading prayers.”

“Yeah, I can imagine that’s not exactly the image they want to give.” Claude said, leaning against a desk with a swiped apple in hand. He stole a look beside him at Byleth, still seated, who looked a little grimmer than usual as she watched her mom.

Talking went on as usual as Sitri finished transferring the sandwiches out of the basket and onto a platter, Leonie quickly stepping forward to help her.

“If you need, I can carry this for you to your house! I was going into town anyway for some supplies so it wouldn’t be a bother.” Leonie offered, gesturing to the basket, and Raphael, who had almost an armful of rolls, nodded.

“And if you don’t feel up for walking I can carry ya!”

“That is a very kind offer, thank you both, but I’m thankfully still young enough yet to need that kind of assistance.” Sitri said in good humor. “I only just turned forty, and hopefully I have at least a few more years before I become so withered that I have to be carried!”

“You don’t look a day over fifteen Ms. S.” Claude complimented with a wink, and Sitri laughed, hand on her chest as she did a small curtsy.

“Why thank you. The Goddess blessed me in many ways, and somehow not getting a single gray hair after raising a child with no sense of self preservation is one of them.”

“Byleth? Having no self preservation? I don’t believe it.” Claude teased, and Byleth rolled her eyes as Leonie snorted. All of them able to think of a few times when Byleth stepped in front of danger for someone else.

A few more coughs escaped Sitri, lighter this time but still not sounding the greatest.

“Well, hearing that it hasn’t stopped might make me finally grow a few.” Sitri said after clearing her throat, sliding the now empty large wicker basket to hang off the crook of her elbow. “But I should leave you all to enjoy the food and get back to your lessons.” She politely nodded to them all, and a chorus of muffled and stuffed good-byes followed her as she walked out the classroom.

Quickly the attention went back to the food, but Claude kept an eye on Byleth as she moved uncertaintly on her bench, biting her lip slightly before standing up.

“Momma?“ Byleth called out, and Sitri stopped, spinning around with an expectant smile.

“Yes dear?”

Byleth met her outside the door, and Claude scooted closer on the table, keeping his eyes in front of him as he listened.

“Are you sure you’re alright? I can stay home for a few days till you’re better if I need to.” Byleth asked, her voice quiet.

“You’re so sweet!” Sitri grasped Byleth’s hands and held them tight, her smile reassuring and calm. “But don’t let me distract you from the academy or the White Heron Cup. I never got to do stuff like that when I was your age, so I want you to enjoy this opportunity, and not spend your time worrying about me. If it helps, I apparently am enough of an old lady that Lady Rhea instructed Cyril to help me, and you know how much of a hard working kid he is. I doubt he’ll let me carry a single thing.”

“That’s true.” Byleth relented after a long pause, wetting her lips, still unsure. “But if you’re not better when the Cups over I might spend the weekend back home, just in case.”

“Alright, if you insist.”

“I do. And you’re not old Momma, stop saying that.” Byleth insisted, an anxious dip to her voice.

Sitri sighed.

“I feel old sometimes, seeing you all grown up and doing things on your own now.” She admitted, brushing a strand of Byleth’s hair behind her ear. “It feels like yesterday I was just teaching you how to walk and you kept tripping over the cat, and now you’re almost a knight like your father.” She was smiling but the next thing she spoke was slightly chocked up. “He’d be really proud of you.”

“…Are you proud of me?” Byleth whispered, almost as if frightened to ask, and Sitri stood on her toes, and pulled her daughter close, planting a kiss on her forehead.

“Always.” Sitri responded, cradling Byleth’s face in her palms. “No matter what.”

Byleth’s lips quirked up into a smile, and Sitri pinched her cheek playfully.

“Now clear your mind of worry, and focus on knocking em dead this weekend!”

“It’s not a fighting competition, but I will.” Byleth chuckled, and Sitri patted her cheek one last time, before turning and walking away.

Claude waited for Byleth to come back in, but after five minutes became ten, he realized she might not.

He slid off the table and went out the door, knowing most of them were too preoccupied by the food to notice him leaving.

He didn’t have to go far before he saw her, standing at the wall overlooking the valley down below.

He couldn’t see her face, the cold wind moving her hair about and causing her long uniform skirt to flutter, but he could guess by her hunched posture she wasn’t doing well.

“Everything okay?” Claude asked, moving to join her at the railing, standing just far enough to give her space but close enough that their conversation felt private.

Byleth looked down, her eyes slightly misty.

“I don’t know. I can’t shake this feeling… that something’s going to happen.” Her breath came out in a shaky puff, her fingers drumming on the snow. “It’s like everything’s too calm, to good… nothing bad happened after Flayn disappeared, we had the Battle of Eagle and Lion and it was great, we have the dance coming up and everyone’s excited… I’m excited… but than my Momma started feeling sick, and now I just feel this unsettling weight…” Her nails dug under the snow and scrapped across the aged stone. “I can’t explain it.”

“And…” Her head turned away, bangs covering her eyes. “I don’t think I’m that good of a dancer.”

Claude let out his own slow breath, studying the small portion of her face he could see.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Claude finally spoke, scooting closer as Byleth nodded. “I… am not that good of a dancer either. Fodlan dances are all so stiff and uncomfortable, and sometimes you move awkwardly with the beat and it throws me all off! And you have to dance by yourself for a waltz competition?? It’s just so weird!” He complained, leaning back with his head to the sky and his balance kept by his grip on the railing.

Byleth chuckled, one of her new smiles growing to highlight her cheeks in a slight rose. Which was all Claude had been working for.

“Wow, admitting a flaw? Maybe that’s what I was feeling so unsettled about. I could sense the universe shifting to allow this to happen.”

“Hey, I have a lot of flaws, you just gotta choose who see’s them.” Claude said, flipping around with a wink so he was facing her. “And you’re lucky that you chose the house least likely to judge you. We have your back, even if you can’t dance. Even if something really bad does happen, we’ll do what we’ve done all year: Complain about it the entire time we’re facing it head on. Together. Cause that’s what us Golden Deer do, even if we’re nothing but a bunch of mismatched classmates, we handle it together.”

His hand gripped her shoulder tightly, and the smile on his own face felt unfamiliar and endearing.

“We could probably do anything together if we really wanted.”

“Yeah.” Byleth answered fondly, eyes looking down but her hand grasped his. “We could.”

He had said it partly to lighten the mood, but Claude found himself believing it with his entire being as he looked at her smiling in the wind…

Together, they could be unstoppable: building bridges, tearing down walls, forging new paths… Maybe even…

Realizing abruptly the route he was going down (and that the “we” had dwindled down from being about the Golden Deer, to just the two of them), Claude let his hand drop, stretching it awkwardly behind his back as it tingled oddly where her fingers had lain.

“But, first we should focus on what we know we can deal with now.” He shifted topic back on track. “We should talk to Hilda or Lorenz, they’ve been doing these fancy dances their whole life – and as much as I wouldn’t like to say it they’re the best bet to help you.”

Byleth nodded, her eyes dry now.

“Come on, we should head back before they notice we’re gone and start assuming things.” Claude said, grabbing her hand and pulling her back to the school courtyard.

“Assuming things?”

“You don’t wanna know Hilda’s mind.”


	5. Day 5: Reunion/Pining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth arrives back in Fodlan after five years desperately searching for a cure to heal her Mother, filled with anticipation and guilt to meet Claude and the rest of the Golden Deer again.

Five years ago, in Fodlan, when you walked down streets lined with stalls it would be bustling with people, even at this time as the sun set. Parents would have one hand firmly on the tugging arm of their child as they bartered with merchants for the evenings meal, and young couples perused at their leisure while older pairs watched from benches and reminisced.

Now, almost no one was on this street but a woman covered in a black cloak.

Vendors were slowly closing shop, hoping to sell one last thing to this woman and earn even a scrap more coin, but they didn’t have much longer before Adrestian guards enforced curfew, and the woman seemed to have a purpose.

Coming to a stop before the third vendor at the market’s end, the woman withdrew a net from beneath her cloak, and presented the broad man a bundle of hooked gold and silver scaled fish.

“I take it this is more than enough to compensate what we discussed?”

The man, Vergil, took the fishes and inspected them, before grunting in agreement and stowing them in a bucket beneath the counter.

“Ye, this’ll do.” Turning, he rummaged through the thin brown curtain concealing the back of his shop, before returning with a leather pouch, opening it to show her the requested concoctions. “You’re lucky Duke Riegan’s been keepin’ the Alliance out of all this the best he can, means we can get trade like this from there at least. Though with the empire supposedly hiring bandits to intercept merchants, it’s anythin’ but stable.” Vergil sighed with his voice low, but frustrated, handing the pouch off to her.

“… I’ve heard that. It’s supposedly gotten so desperate that merchants are demanding more protection from the Roundtable.” The hooded woman replied distractedly, taking the bag from him and tucking it onto her belt. “Must be a difficult situation for everyone.”

“Egh, I doubt it’s too much of a hard situation for them fancy dukes. Most of em aren’t doing nothin’ and are willing to crumple under the emperor’s boot. Most I hear is Gloucester’s boy has been offering his aid to local villages in stopping the bandits, but nothin’ much he can do since there’s no proof it’s the empire.”

“That’s a shame.” The woman’s lips were pressed thin, and she bowed shortly. “Thank you for your business.”

“Always happy to work a trade.” Vergil responded with a toothy grin, and the woman swept away, cloak billowing behind her and giving Vergil a glimpse of the unique sword strapped to her back and obsidian hilted dagger on her belt.

“ _damn it, shoulda traded for one of those.”_

She walked back down the road to where her black horse was tied, drinking at the communal trough. She untied his reins, giving him an affectionate rub on the white star on his nose, before mounting and urging him to go.

The market was only a few streets away from the gates, and as tempted as she was to stop by one of the inns and stay the night in a bed, the empire soldiers beginning to emerge on the corners reminded her that it wasn’t safe. So instead she stayed alert and kept going to the gate, tugging her cowl down lower.

Sleep wasn’t as important as getting to where she was going.

The watchmen on duty barely paid her any attention as she passed, yawning into the air and focusing on their card game, bored from hours of nothing happening to even notice the dagger strapped to her leg.

A mile down the road a small bridge crossed a small river, and when Sheath, her horse, hooves hit the dirt on the other side, Byleth finally let out a relaxed breath.

“Everywhere we go, the streets are filled with tension…” Byleth muttered, leaning forward and patting him on the neck. “It’s… so different from when I left.”

Vergil’s talk about Duke Riegan entered Byleth’s mind, and Byleth sat back, eyes looking up at the crescent moon.

“ _Had he been talking about Claude?_ ” She couldn’t help but wonder. She had heard, from an Almyran merchant in Morfis, that the last leader of the Alliance had died, but the merchant hadn’t known more than that. And Byleth hadn’t had the nerve to ask who Duke Riegan was yet, both as a precaution to not stand out, as well as the unsettling apprehension in her gut.

The last time she had seen Claude von Riegan, he had been her closest friend and house leader, encouraging her to leave and save her mother from whatever ailment the Tomas imposter had put upon her, and she’d promised him she’d be back.

But the next thing she knew, three years had passed, and word had only just reached her that the Adrestian Empire had declared war, and Garrag Mach monastery had fallen.

It had taken two years after that before she could find passage back to Fodlan, too many countries not wanting to get involved in the mess, and her search for travel remained split with her determined quest for the rare ingredients needed to stabilize Sitri.

If, her chamber hadn’t been found yet…

Anxiety made her clench the reins tight, and Sheath picked up his pace to a canter.

Byleth could not think about that possibility any further; she had lost enough sleep over something she refused to be true until she saw it with her own eyes. She had finally gathered everything Rhea said was needed to counteract whatever poison Solon had put in Sitri’s veins, and Rhea had assured her that the sleep she induced on Sitri was capable of halting the spread for seven years, as long as it wasn’t disrupted. If after all this time, the blood and sweat she had shed and the years away from a war she should have been fighting in, Byleth wasn’t sure what she would do if she walked into the secret platform within the crypt and found her mother gone.

She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath of the night air to clear her thoughts.

As the hours passed, and Garrag Mach’s towering ruins drew closer, Byleth’s thoughts kept wandering to her classmates.

The Gloucester son that Vergil mentioned had to be Lorenz, unsurprisingly prioritizing serving the people as he often proudly proclaimed was what a noble should do, and Byleth hoped Ignatz and Raphael’s families were doing well in this troubling time for trades. She couldn’t imagine Leonie staying still and not doing anything, but with the knights apparently scattered and the Alliance staying neutral, she wondered just what way she would have found to fight back?

(Perhaps mercenary work? Byleth had dabbled in it herself, and it was not unimaginable to see Leonie thriving in a profession like that.)

Claude, of course, was mostly likely the Archduke.

The thought brought an odd pang to her chest, and one hand dropped the reins to clutch above where her heart should beat.

They had been split apart so quickly… it felt as if it was only yesterday when she would wake up in her dorm and only have to walk a few stairs before she’d be sitting with all of them at breakfast; Raphael eating so quickly that Lorenz would scold him, and Hilda wiped her hands on his coat tails while telling him to lighten up. Leonie would bring up a topic to distract from that, and Ignatz and Marianne would get drawn into the conversation despite just trying to eat, and Claude would lean close and “whisper” to Byleth that at least they weren’t the Black Eagles.

To some that was the farthest thing from a perfect morning, but to Byleth, who had spent the last five years waking up alone, she’d do anything to get it back.

But she knew that was unlikely to happen.

Even if they did show up for the reunion tomorrow, they weren’t students anymore. They all were adults in the crossfire of a war, with their own path they needed to follow. Claude was a _leader_ now _,_ in charge of a whole country! The last thing on his mind was probably wanting to spend mornings with her again.

Realistically, she would make sure her Momma was safe, find wherever Rhea had gone into hiding, and finally have her mom back. From there, Byleth wasn’t sure. Hopefully, there was some way she could help in the war, and she would pursue anyway she could, but it would be completely understandable if no one trusted her anymore.

It hurt, a little like a stab wound, to think that Claude might not trust her. To think that they could crumble from feeling like no matter the challenge they could overcome it together, to back to square one filled with distrust and not knowing each other… But it was a possibility she couldn’t ignore nor complain about.

She had been the one that left, after all.

\---

The first thing Byleth did when she arrived at the decaying monastery, was race to the cathedral.

Leaving Sheath in the main courtyard, she burst through the doors blocking her from the bridge, and slide beneath the halfway raised gate on her side, coming to a stop inside the broken hinged double door leading inside the grand cathedral.

It wasn’t looking so grand anymore, however.

The roof above the steps were people worshipped had caved in, leaving a giant hole to the floor above. Pedestals were tipped over, some of the pews split in half or splintered to bits, and as she got up a thick layer of dust and grime clung to her skirt and elbow.

One more sweep around the room, showed clear signs of pillaging, and her pulse speed up in her ears.

Quickly, she crossed the room and entered the crypt. Similar to the main cathedral, it had clear signs of destruction, though this one seemed less thieves and more like a fight.

Arrows stuck out from walls, blood stains remained to show where someone had fallen, and tomb lids were half smashed onto the floor as if they had been thrown open in haste.

Not bothering with the stairs, Byleth leapt over the banister, shoulder rolling onto her feet as she continued on to the back of the room, behind Seiros’ coffin.

The Sword of the Creator hit awkwardly against her leg as she halted abruptly, hands flat against the wall as she desperately searched for whatever switch Rhea had pressed, and her fingers soon found the edge of an odd piece of stone, and it sunk with pressure.

With a slight rumble, a doorway size portion of the wall slide up, revealing a circular white room-

With Sitri displayed in the center, in the odd glass case, right where Byleth had last seen her.

An exhale got caught in Byleth’s throat as she walked forward, collapsing onto her knees as she saw the slow rise and fall of Sitri’s chest.

It wasn’t the most steady beat, but she was breathing, and that was all Byleth could have asked any god to find.

She was alive, she could still save her.

And Byleth hadn’t wasted all those years away from her friends searching.

Her forehead touched the cool glass, and for the first time since Byleth first found her mother dying on the floor, she let herself feel everything- and cried.

\---

An hour later, Byleth composed herself, and climbed to her feet, clearing her throat. It felt good to cry, but it also felt a little weird.

“I’ll be back soon.” Byleth promised Sitri, looking up at her peaceful face, the corners of her mouth upturned in the last smile she had given Byleth before drifting off. Motivation surging through her veins, Byleth left, keeping her eyes on her until the stone wall blocked her vision

Her fingers lingered on the switch for a moment more, memorizing its location, before turning around and walking back through the crypt. Apprehension gripping at her stomach again at the thought that someone else might have arrived by now.

She took the stairs this time, moving much more paced than before as she battled with the inner worry about how the others might receive her if they do turn up.

She rubbed her palm absentmindedly as she entered back into the cathedral, eyes mainly on the floor as she walked past the two off shoot doors toward the main gate-

But movement made her stop abruptly.

The sun was beginning to rise, and casted the shadow of a flicking wing against the opposite wall. Turning, Byleth saw through the torn off doorway, a perched harnessed wyvern.

She tensed, instincts telling her to duck away, but the bright yellow eyes were already trained on her, so instead she stayed in place and studied it.

The wyvern studied her right back in return, head tilting to the side and causing the tassels on its head gear to shift with it.

Curiously, Byleth felt an odd familiarity to this wyvern, and cautiously began stepping closer. (cautiously, in case it decided she looked like a mint flavored snack.)

As she passed through the door, Byleth reached her hand out, palm toward it, and it stretched it’s long neck forward, and sniffed her hand.

Lifting its head, it let out a friendly groan, and nudged her hair in greeting with its nose.

Looking up Byleth squinted slightly.

“So I do know you?” She asked, and her voice made the wyverns armored tail lift in the air excitedly, as if that was another thing about her it recognized.

Bringing up a hand to both pat and push it away so she could see around her again, Byleth started asking “Where is your-” but she stopped as her eyes landed on the Goddess tower, now even more enveloped by it’s tree.

“Never mind.” She spoke quietly, moving past the wyvern gently and making her way past the well to where the Goddess tower waited.

The door inside was creaky as she pushed it open, but it was one of the few ones she had seen so far that was still intact. There was no torchlight, so she couldn’t say for sure about the interior, however.

The lack of light not deterring her, Byleth began climbing to the top, the nervousness rising with each step but this time, joined by an equal amount of anticipation.

She didn’t bother hiding her footsteps, knowing she would pay for it later if it wasn’t who she hoped it would be, but something in her told her she was right.

Finally reaching the top landing, Byleth peered through the doorway from the shadows, just in time to see the sun rise through the large window, illuminating the well-dressed figure standing in front of it.

Hearing her footsteps stop atop the stairs, the figure turned in a swirl of his gold cape, and Byleth saw a handsome face outlined by a well-kept beard, brown hair swept back with one strand curling forward near green eyes Byleth would recognize anywhere.

The smile that grew from his cheeks to crinkle the corners of his eyelids was a perfect mixture of his teasing grin and the tiny smile he would sometimes get that would catch himself off guard more than anyone, blazing almost as bright as the sun itself.

His hand, gloved in a tough leather all the way to his elbow, perched on his hip while the other waved in a two finger salute.

“There you are friend, I was wondering when you’d show up!” Claude greeted, and Byleth had never beamed so genuine before as she stepped forward to join him in the light, just the sight of him bringing up a swell of happiness she couldn’t tie down even if she wanted to.

“I promised I wouldn’t be late.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Byleth: The last thing on Claude's mind is probably wanting to spend mornings with me again :(  
> Claude, "Extreme Pining for the last five years" von Riegan: Wanna bet?
> 
> aLSO YES Sitri is still alive! It hurt me too much to kill Jeralt in this AU I couldn't bring myself to off Sitri too T^T which made me need to think of a different way Byleth would have to combine with Sothis, bc Jeralt dying kind of is the catalyst for that, as well as the reveal of Edelgard. I should probably write a tumblr post about all this bc I like the idea a lot but couldn't fit it in alsdjf
> 
> (also tomorrow i'm gonna try and write smut for Claude's birthday wish me luck alsdjf)

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to aspiringwhisperer on tumblr for giving me the nickname Fawnleth! I was completely lost on what nickname Claude could call Byleth haha and Fawnleth was so cute and teasing alsjdf


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